


I’m Wondering If (You’ve Found Somewhere to Go)

by astorii



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: AU, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Kaito just wanted to prepare for his heist, M/M, Shinichi... Shinichi just wants to not die, Tags to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-05-20 03:01:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19368631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astorii/pseuds/astorii
Summary: Suffice to say, Kaito thinks this heist will be one of the easiest yet!He just doesn’t expect to find the unconscious body of Kudō Shinichi in the should-be vacant hotel room he broke into.





	1. Hum

**Author's Note:**

> Unfortunately, I do not and never will own DCMK.
> 
> The title is taken from Adriana Figueroa’s translation of “Surely Someday” from _Professor Layton and the Azran Legacy_! Her voice is quite lovely so feel free to check it out on YouTube. ^ ^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hum.

Suffice to say, Kaito thinks this heist will be one of the easiest yet!  
  
Tomorrow’s stage will be a 5-star hotel in the heart of Tokyo and showtime is at 2100 hours—or 9:00 p.m. for those who don’t prefer 24-hour time. And at this moment, he’s riding the elevator, key card at the ready, and disguise in place. Though, today’s definition of disguise is themed around darker shades to set him apart from 1412’s signature white. And the brown eye contacts don’t hurt. He grins to himself, tugging the brim of his dark hat lower as his ascent to the 9th floor nears its end.  
  
Under his instruction, Jii had checked out this room three days ago and promptly checked out of as soon as Kaito procured a copy of the room’s key card. Kaito had already swung by two days ago, disguised as a maid tasked with cleaning duty, and set up a few things. Today will be his last preparation day. This room is one of three he’s designated as his escape room; however, this one currently ranks as his primary exit with the other two serving as back-ups.  
  
The elevator comes to a stop, signaling its arrival. As the door slides open, he takes a moment to admire himself in the reflection of the elevator’s reflective gold interior. Just as he’s about to step out, a man rushes in, lugging a single travel briefcase with him. Kaito notes the man’s disheveled appearance: loose tie, pale blue button-up hastily tucked into brown slacks and left unbuttoned from the third button up, and a sweaty sheen on his forehead.  
  
A businessman bordering on late for his flight is his guess. He easily disregards the man as it’s none of his business—especially when he has more important things to take care of. Kaito simply nods in greeting and steps off. As he approaches furthest room of the east wing, he flicks his right hand and the key card appears between his middle and pointer fingers. With a quiet hum, he ambles towards room 917. The maids would have stopped by earlier today according to the schedule he had peeked at and since no one should be occupying the room between today and the day after tomorrow, now is the time to check if his preparations have been disturbed.  
  
Kaito slides the card through the reader once he reaches the door. Once he confirms it’s been unlocked, he opens the door and slips in, shutting it quietly behind him. Given the late hour and the closed blinds, Kaito finds himself immersed in darkness once the light of the hall is blocked by the door bar the thin stripe from the bottom. As a precaution, he refrains from switching on the light and opts for a small flashlight.  
  
His first move is to check the balcony which overlooks the city. From there, he plans to make his escape via hang glider, but should that be impossible, he at least hopes to release a decoy to throw the Taskforce off his trail. Kaito suspects he won’t be needing to as Hakuba’s in England for one reason or another and shouldn’t be back for another month. And his only worthy opponent seems to have disappeared…  
  
Just as he’s about to cross the threshold separating the entry and the living room, Kaito’s trained ears pick up on a quiet sound. He can’t place it, but he knows the origin of it is somewhere to his left. Cautiously, he turns his light off and debates making an exit to avoid confrontation. It’s a safe bet. He does have the other two rooms to fall back on and the things he had left for tomorrow won’t compromise his identity if they do end up being secured by the police.  
  
But...  
  
What if the police are here waiting to ambush him? The Taskforce? Maybe one of the staff noticed something. Or what if he had been mistaken and someone had indeed booked the room?  
  
Curiosity gets the better of him and Kaito moves towards the source. He exchanges the flashlight in his hand for his card gun. As his eyes adjust to the darkness, he manages to glimpse… _hands?_  
  
Yes. _Hands_. Those are pale hands splayed across the oakwood floor. Kaito’s eyes go wide and his card gun almost slips from his hand. Without wasting another second, he grabs his flashlight, switching it on and shining the thin beam down to see an unconscious, bloodied face of a boy who didn’t look any older than seventeen or eighteen at most.  
  
Laying low be damned! Kaito scrambles for more light than his flashlight could provide and his hands find a lamp sitting on a closeby side table. In his haste to turn it on, he almost knocks it over, but he catches it and pulls on the string. The warm white light illuminates a decent part of the room. And, able to see more clearly, he recognizes the boy as none other than Kudō Shinichi.  
  
“I always thought he was my age,” he murmurs. At age 21, Kaito likes to pride himself on becoming the man his father had been shaping him out to be. “Irrelevant. Gotta make sure he’s alive first.”  
  
Kaito pauses to assess the damage. A blow to the head seems likely. Judging by the way the blood is concentrated just above his forehead, he can at least deduce that Kudō had been hit from the front—probably saw his attacker then. That’s good. A quick case closed.  
  
As he drops to his knees, Kaito brings his fingers closer to Kudō’s neck only to recoil when vivid blue eyes snap open.  
  
“I didn’t do it,” he blurts out. Immediately after, his cheeks color. Of course he didn’t do it! And Kudō must know as well, judging by the raised eyebrow.  
  
“‘Course you didn’t,” Kudō says, his voice slurred and thick with—exhaustion? Pain? “You’re… Kid… ‘cept I thought your eyes were… in’go…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stayed up all night just so I could get myself tired enough to write something I actually liked.
> 
> I must admit to being inspired by a prompt on Tumblr; however, I altered it to fit this. ^ ^
> 
> And if I’m being very honest, I have no idea what I’m doing. I plan to have 30 chapters as I have 30 single word prompts. I thought it would be a fun way to write a story. Hehe. For now, I’m working out the details of what has happened and what will happen. Whoops.
> 
> Anywho... oh dear, Shinichi what did you get yourself into? And Kaito... I’m excited for the next chapter. ^ ^


	2. Truck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Truck.

How did he—?  
  
“You’ve got the wrong guy,” Kaito says. He moves closer to examine Kudō—like, really examine. They’ve only just met. How did he figure it out in seconds in his condition?  
  
A quiet groan escapes Kudō’s parted lips. He can’t help but feel a little sorry for the guy who probably feels like he’s been hit by a truck. Fresh blood still seeps from the wound on his head and there appears to be an impressive bruise flowering beneath the blood. Kaito won’t be surprised if Kudō has a concussion. Head trauma, slurred speech, and an evident struggle to stay conscious? A concussion sounds rather likely, but…  
  
With a curt apology, he lifts Kudō’s head and places it into his lap. He brings the small beam of his flashlight to Kudō’s eyes—both of which, he notes, are a vibrant blue hue and seem unfocused behind fluttering eyelids. He notices, upon shining the light in each eye, that Kudō flinches as if it _really_ hurts. He’s probably concussed, which isn’t surprising—if anything, it’s inconvenient. He has a long to-do list for today and taking a wounded detective to the hospital isn’t on it.  
  
“Pretty sure you got a concussion,” he says, lowering his voice just in case Kudō is sensitive to sound as well. “You haven’t been knocked out this whole time, have you?”  
  
Kudō shakes his head, visibly struggling to stay awake and wincing at the movement. “Was out… a little… earlier. Don’t rem’ber what happened. Been tryin’ to… stay… awake sin’,” he murmurs. Definitely concussed, then. With all the mishaps with tricks, Kaito would know. And meeting his gaze, Kudō continues to speak despite the difficulty he’s having. “You sure you’re not Kid? Thought you were… heh… could you turn off the light? Hurts…”  
  
“I’m sure,” Kaito replies, feeling a little lightheaded. How does he know? He ponders this while patting Kudō’s right cheek with a feather-light touch in hopes that it’ll help him stay away. There’s no telling for sure what could happen if he falls asleep. “We need to get you to a hospital. Can you stand?”  
  
With a grunt, Kudō manages to sit up. He does end up having to brace a hand on Kaito’s shoulder while the other moves to touch the wound on his head. Kudō flinches when his fingers make contact. He pulls his hand away, dazedly staring at the blood that has transferred to the pads of his fingers.  
  
Now that he’s had a good look at him, Kaito wonders how he hadn’t recognized Kudō almost immediately.  
  
“Just to be sure… can you tell me your name? Age? And what’s your favorite color?”  
  
Kudō brings his hand back up only to touch his nose. “... Kudō Shinichi,” he slowly says, sounding hesitant. “’m twenty-one. I think…”  
  
“You think?”  
  
“I think my fav’rite color’s red,” Kudō amends. He sounds oddly defensive. “Nev’ really had… a fav’rite color…”  
  
Rising to his feet, Kaito extends his right hand. Kudō looks at it for a few moments before allowing himself to be helped up. And when the detective stumbles, his left hand finds itself on Kudō’s waist in an attempt to steady him. When the latter tenses under his hand, he quickly pulls away.  
  
“I didn’t mean to,” he says. “I was just—”  
  
“‘S’okay,”  Kudō says, waving him off. Kaito notes the height difference. Kudō’s at least five centimeters shorter. And a glance at his shoes shows that it may be a tiny bit more.  
  
“All right then. Let me—”  
  
“Jus’ gon’ call someone. Won’t let you get caught,” Kudō mumbles, taking a step forward as he reaches into both of his pockets. Kaito is quick to steady him—by the arm this time.  
  
When he pulls out a red smartphone, he unlocks it. Judging by the clumsy movements of his thumb, the passcode is 4869. Kaito debates taking the phone and calling this person for him so that he doesn’t strain his eyes. “Haib’ra… Hai… there!”  
  
Naturally, he winces at the volume of his own voice before hitting call and holding the phone a small distance from his ear.  
  
“Still not Kid.”  
  
Nonetheless, Kaito isn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Assuming that Kudō is willing to give him a way out by calling for a ride, so be it.  
  
But the fact that Kudō is doing this because he knows…  
  
Why does he seem so sure of himself? And how had he figured it out within seconds even in such a state?  
  
He’s heard of Kudō’s deductive prowess, but he always assumed people exaggerated his abilities. After all, Kudō is a household name in Japan. The son to Kudō Yūsaku and Fujimine Yukiko… surely everyone would want to sing his praises, right? Until now, Kaito had assumed Kudō was just another pretty face that had charmed the media simply because his parents were well-off and well-known.  
  
But deduction skills aside, how did Kudō know what color his eyes are?  
  
“—eet you downstairs,” Kudō says, holding his phone with both hands now. “‘m with a friend now. See you.”  
  
“Friend, am I?” Kaito teases as Kudō slips his device into a pocket. “You got a ride?”  
  
Reason #2 of Why Kaito Shouldn’t Take a Concussed Detective to the Hospital: he drove his motorcycle and parked it two blocks down and concussions and motorcycles probably don’t mix.  
  
“Haib'ra and ‘akase will… they’re comin’.”  
  
He privately wonders if “Haib'ra” and “‘akase” are Haibara Ai and Agasa Hiroshi. Kaito knows those names as they were acquainted with his dear Tantei-kun. And now that he thinks about it, maybe Kudō knows Tantei-kun? They do look related…  
  
“Tell me,” Kaito begins. “Why are you so insistent that I’m Kid?”  
  
“I’d know you an’where,” Kudō replies. There’s something in his voice which sounds off. Then he closes his mouth, narrowing his eyes at something on the ground. Kaito follows his gaze and sees nothing, but before he can ask, Kudō says, “I gotta go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve never had a concussion, so please don’t come for me.
> 
> I almost had Shinichi spill something very telling of his time as Conan, but I refrained.
> 
> He has done some things that have piqued Kaito’s curiosity. It’s those things that make Kaito seek him out. Maybe. Or another chance encounter. I still have yet to figure out where this fic will go.


	3. Bite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bite.

Kudō won’t leave his mind.  
  
Kaito finds himself thinking about the detective at odd hours of the day. Each thought, fleeting, gone within seconds and unforgiving in that he can’t seem to forget. He still wonders how Kudō could know the color of Kid’s eyes when few people have had the opportunity to be close enough to notice such a detail. And the defensive tone he took to when speaking…  
  
It’s as if Kudō has secrets he wanted to keep locked away.  
  
He can respect that. Kaito himself has secrets. One of which the detective managed to figure out despite his concussed state. It’s unnerving that his secret had been exposed within seconds to someone who should not be in the right state of mind to come to such a conclusion while being resoundingly sure about it. For Hakuba, the only other person who has ever deduced his real identity (—and, no, Akako doesn’t count—), it took him a few days! So, how could someone he’s never met figure it out upon meeting?  
  
And then there’s Kudō’s startling similarity to Tantei-kun! Kaito isn’t sure if the two are related, but it cannot be a mere coincidence that Tantei-kun is practically a pint-sized, spectacled clone of Kudō, right? He’s thought about this—been thinking about this since he retreated after helping Kudō reach the ground floor. Cousins, perhaps? He dismisses this idea as the uncanny resemblance seems unlikely if that were the case—not necessarily impossible, but unlikely. If not that, then a possible bastard child?  
  
…  
  
Nah.  
  
Neither of Kudō’s parents seem like the type to cheat. Then again, what does he know? Though, the tabloids like to say so. Apparently Kudō’s mother sometimes gets the impression that her husband is cheating on her or flirting with someone else—typically at some sort of event in which a substantial amount of alcohol is present and either the man is drunk off his ass or the former actress is tipsy and delusional. He only knows this because he’s sure that very few women in the world travel halfway across the globe in light of her husband’s apparent adultery as opposed to talking it out like _civilized_ adults.  
  
Kaito isn’t sure how much of that is true. The gossiping realm, as he’s noticed, is full of ruthless sharks who do not fear spreading lies and half-truths that hurt.  
  
But, back to more important business! _Tantei-kun_!   
  
He’ll have to look into the relation between his favorite detective and the supposed Holmes of this century—see if they share blood or if their uncanny resemblance is just a creepy coincidence much like his and Kudō’s similar faces. Though, he’ll have to do that at a later date given that showtime is in 3… 2… 1…  
  
“ _Ladies and gentlemen_!”   
  
With practiced grace, he dodges a Taskforce member who lunges for him. He lands atop the marble statue of a peacock with sapphires embedded where its eyes should be. Privately, Kaito snickers at the look of outrage on Nakamori’s face; it looks like he wants to bite his head off!  
  
“Evening, Keibu,” he says, tipping his hat. “I’m afraid that I’ve overstayed my welcome.”  
  
“As if you were welcome in the first place!” Nakamori bellows, shaking his fist at him. “After him! And don’t let him take the damn statue!”  
  
Kaito laughs and snaps his fingers. On cue, the lights shut off and he sticks a piece of cardstock with his signature caricature onto the statue before slipping on his disguise. Joke’s on them! He had already checked the jewels of the statue hours ago. And there’s no way he’d try to carry such a weight when he plans to throw himself out a window to escape—though, with his trick, they’ll think he’s taken it. Behind the mask of darkness, he jumps down, deploying a fake to distract the officers, and runs into the hall.  
  
He throws open the door for the stairs—thankfully there had been no alarm attached to it—and _runs_. With approximately 30 seconds before the lights switch back on to allow the officers to realize his deception, he hurries to ensure he has a nice head start—not that he needs it, but it’s certainly appreciated.  
  
But imagine his surprise when one Hakuba Saguru emerges from the shadows with a flashlight at hand.  
  
“Kuroba.”  
  
Kaito raises his brows. “Excuse me?” he asks, knowing that there’s no use in denying that he’s Kid in disguise but also knowing that he can’t simply confirm Hakuba’s suspicions. “To what do I owe the displeasure?”  
  
“You’re thirteen seconds and fifty-nine milliseconds behind,” chides Hakuba. If Kaito didn’t know any better, he’d think the detective is teasing him! “I’m not here to capture you, but I would like to pass on a message.”  
  
As he peels off his disguise, Kaito snickers and says, “Finally decided you weren’t skilled enough to play detective? Shall I call you Messenger-san and expect to never see you again at my heists?”  
  
“Kudō Shinichi-kun,” Hakuba says. Kaito narrows his eyes behind his mask of indifference. With a curious light in his eyes, he continues. “I have had the recent pleasure of meeting with him. When he learned that I would be in attendance tonight, he asked me to pass on his thanks.”  
  
Kaito hums while pretending that those words mean nothing to him. And just _why_ couldn’t Kudō say those words for himself? While he might be concussed, there are always other heists to attend!  
  
“As much as I would like to know why he would like to thank someone as yourself, I believe that you should know that the room you planned to escape from isn’t compromised like you might have been inclined to think.”  
  
Ah. So his preparations should still be in place then!  
  
“And here I thought you wanted to capture me,” he lilts.  
  
Hakuba rolls his eyes. “That was my original purpose for coming here tonight, but Kudō-kun’s message intrigued me and I hoped for an explanation.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had about 700 words written for a few weeks now, but alas! I got stuck on the dialogue between Hakuba and Kaito. T^T
> 
> But it’s finally here! Hehe. I hope it was somewhat worth the wait. ^ ^


	4. Carriage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Carriage.

Kaito huffs as he hurls himself up the last flight of steps and throws the door open. He sprints down the hall and only slows down to pull out the master key card, which he utilizes as soon as he reaches Room 917’s door. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he watches Hakuba trip as he steps into the hallway, clearly just as out of breath as Kaito is. He laughs, wiggling his fingers and disappears into the room.  
  
True to Hakuba’s word, the room doesn’t seem to have been disturbed, which means that the balcony should be rigged to slam shut immediately after he plants the decoy which would buy him time to get to a higher level before he activates his hang glider. Expelling a sigh of relief, he places a gloved hand over his heart, hoping that it will stop pounding as much as it is.  
  
He _really_ should work on his stamina. Even after all this time, he still tires out somewhat easily.  
  
Though, he can’t deny that the rush of adrenaline is _thrilling_.  
  
Kaito waits for Hakuba to appear in the doorway. The detective-turned-messenger flips the switch, leaning against the doorframe as he glares at him.  
  
“What possessed you to run up _nine_ flights of stairs?”  
  
“Oh? Did you want me to have us run up to the top?” he asks, feigning innocence. “Think of it as a test of endurance. After all, I have the health of the Taskforce and annoying detectives such as yourself in my best interest.” He snickers. “You could have taken the elevator. Or you could have waited here since you somehow knew that it’s where I planned to escape.”  
  
“I only knew thanks to Kudō-kun,” Hakuba tells him, still glaring. He huffs, straightening himself out. “He also told me that you would likely be worried that the room had been compromised, so he advised that I tell you it wouldn’t be—not yet, at least.” With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, he adds, “Though, Heaven knows why I decided to help you. I very well could have brought this up with Nakamori-keibu.”  
  
Kaito throws his head back in laughter as he opens the balcony doors without looking over his shoulder. When the last show of mirth dies down, he asks, “Weren’t you supposed to be in England, _Messenger-san_? Or was this just another one of your ploys to catch me off guard?”  
  
With another exaggerated eye roll, Hakuba flicks his fringe and gives him a _very_ pointed look. “Perhaps I should ask how you know that,” he drawls. “But for your information, my business was taken care of much more quickly than I imagined. When I heard you’d be holding a heist, I caught the next plane and went to the station to speak with Nakamori-keibu.” He smirks. “There, I had the pleasure of meeting Kudō Shinichi-kun, who had apparently shown up to ask for permission to attend the heist.”  
  
“Permission?” echoes Kaito, tilting his head. Behind his carefully-crafted poker face, he raises his brows. Everyone can attend his heists—unless it’s a private party, of course, then an invitation is _probably_ recommended. Kaito _loves_ an audience. Surely Kudō understands that, right? Instead of asking such questions, he says, “I didn’t see him in attendance. Did Nakamori-keibu scare him off, then?”  
  
The detective-turned-messenger shakes his head. Kaito privately wonders how the two of them are getting along so far—by now he would have done something quote-unquote mean to him. But here they are, having a civil conversation over a detective that the two of them had recently met.  
  
“I noticed that he seemed unwell. When I pointed it out, he admitted to having a concussion.” Kaito resists the urge to pinch his nose at that. “Nakamori-keibu told him to get some rest and that a heist is no place for an injured person. Kudō-kun seemed unhappy, but complied. After I procured a copy of the notice, I left the station and met him outside as he was waiting for someone to pick him up. He asked me to pass along his gratitude.”  
  
“And now you want answers.”  
  
“And now I want answers.”  
  
Kaito hums. _Not yet at least_ , Hakuba had said earlier, which means Kudō expects this room to be compromised at some point. Perhaps he hasn’t mentioned his being bloodied and concussed on the floor of this room? Now that’s a thought. For what reason could he have to not share such a thing? The police would be treating it like—  
  
—like a crime scene…  
  
Officers would be inspecting every nook and cranny. While his alterations weren’t noticeable, they could still be found with a bit of thorough investigation. They would have likely found _something_ suspicious. If he were _really_ unlucky, someone could have been in here, searching for something—anything, really.  
  
Did Kudō figure that this room was to be a part of his escape plan? Did he purposefully not say anything so Kaito would not have to alter his plans? But why would he do such a thing?  
  
So many questions!  
  
“Kid, I swear—”  
  
“—on what, _Messenger-san_?” He laughs and makes a show of wiping away a nonexistent tear as he steps onto the balcony. “I’m afraid my carriage awaits.”  
  
“You mean your glider.”  
  
Kaito shrugs as he angles his arm in such a way that the flash bomb he had prepared would slowly slip out. He feels the capsule sliding down and he reaches into his suit using his other hand. Grinning when Hakuba takes a cautious step back, he says, “Ever the critic, _Messenger-san_ ,” as the flash bomb falls to the floor. He jumps back, pulling out his grappling hook as his vision fills with a blinding light.  
  
He releases the decoy and he begins to scale the building so he can get high enough. If he uses his glider from this level, there would be too many obstacles to avoid from this height.  
  
And he just likes being up high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully I gave Kaito enough reasons to look into Shinichi in this chapter. ^ ^
> 
> I still have no idea where I’m going with this fic, but I just want to end it with some lovely KaiShin. Hehe.
> 
> It seems this is my third update of the day and it’s not even 3 a.m. yet. >-< I’m having a bit of trouble sleeping, but it’s okay!! I’m also just really impatient and wanted to update. ^ ^

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you for taking time out of your day to read this! Please remember to take care of yourself and any responsibilities you may be forgetting. ^ ^
> 
> Please consider dropping a kudos, a comment, or a bookmark! They are very appreciated! Regardless, have a lovely day, dear reader!


End file.
